


at your pace (i will follow, always)

by moth_writes



Series: scintillae [4]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: (sort of), Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Introspection, Mild Angst, Not 'Visiting' but it is 'visiting', Some Fluff but also a lot of pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:07:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26488417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moth_writes/pseuds/moth_writes
Summary: Written for Carry On Sparks spark: SlowNatasha watches Baz grow up. Lucy watches Simon grow up. It's a long, slow process for all involved.(Standalone-you don't have to read any of the rest of the series to understand!)
Series: scintillae [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1763179
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	at your pace (i will follow, always)

**Author's Note:**

> Another Sparks fic, because I am procrastinating!!

LUCY

The first time I gain enough strength to visit him, Simon is seven months old.

Not Visit. It's not time for that, not yet. I can feel the remnants, the draw, still fading from the last one.

I remember that. My grandmother came back. She wanted to teach me her recipes, so I could pass them down. (Mother was never one for cooking, but I'm fairly decent at it.)(I was, anyway. Not much cooking here.)

I came into myself-my ghost-about four months after. I think so, anyway. Time passes differently here, but Simon was born in summer and there's snow on the ground now. I started doing everything I could to gather and build up my strength and my grip here, and it took this long to track him down _and_ stay for longer than a moment.

My son smiles at me. I think he can see me. I smile at him, and he burbles. I want to reach down, to wipe the spit from his chin, but I've learned already I can't touch anything. 

Not in a way that makes an impact. I can still feel, though, so I reach into his crib and touch his chubby red cheek. It's softer than anything.

He giggles. My Simon is such a happy baby-I'm glad. It's the least this world could do for him. He'll grow up without us, but I'll watch him always and his magic will take care of him. Mine did. Cuts and scrapes healed miraculously, stories jumping from pages, everything just in reach when you want it.

His magic hums around him. Green things and electricity, almost like mine. I make a funny face at him, eyes screwed up and tongue sticking out, and he laughs so hard his little chest heaves.

He falls asleep soon, baby-tired as I recite every fairy story I've ever memorized to him. I feel it pulling me, and I know my strength is fading. 

I don't know when I'll be able to do this again. Before, I could hold a spell for hours. But I gave it all to Simon, and it took months to get here.

I lean down and kiss his brow softly. " _ **A Mother's Blessing**_ ," I whisper, and the magic wraps around him obediently.

It's not an actual spell, but I've always been good at putting magic into words without. It will give him a boost, for a couple months at least. He won't get sick. He won't go hungry. He'll feel just right without a jumper or a fan. He'll get everything he wants, whether he knows it or not.

The last of my strength fades with the spell's glow, and I'm pulled away.

_I'll be back, my rosebud boy._

NATASHA

Basil won't eat.

I stand beside him-as much as I'm able to-and rub soft circles on his back. I know he can't feel it, but I have to do something. I feel useless like this, not being able to care for my own son properly.

I wish I hadn't done it for Basil's sake. I don't regret it, killing those monsters, but I do regret that my son will have to grow up without a mother. That I won't be there to guide Fiona out of her reckless stage and into the woman she can be.

I knew the position was dangerous when I took it. I thought I would be strong enough to fight anything off, as long as I had Basil and Malcolm safe.

I was wrong.

Basil stirs his porridge aimlessly. _Eat up_ , I want to tell him, _you're looking grey._

And I'm almost glad he can't hear me. He is looking grey. He's a vampire.

I think I should be conflicted about knowing my son is one of the monsters I died killing. I'm not, because I died protecting him-I would have done the same were it anything else.

I know my son isn't a monster. I know that he isn't everyone's exception, and likely every other vampire was that to someone. I have to reexamine my biases and decide if they're fair, but until I come to a decisions I know I will always love my son. Always.

He pushes his bowl away, to Vera's concern. I follow him through the house, and he stops in Malcolm and I's bedroom.

Well. It's Malcolm's bedroom now, I suppose.

Basil curls up on my side on the bed. I smooth the blanket down over him, and though it doesn't move, he shivers. 

I hope Malcolm remarries. He's always wanted more children, but I never did. I never wanted any until I saw those little lines, and after I'd never wanted anything more. 

And Basil needs siblings. I was already in my teenage years when Fiona was born, and I remember what it was like to have sibling. Especially a younger one-Fiona was always very loud. It's far too quiet around here.

I decide to fix that as much as I can. I sing, sing for as long as my voice holds out. It's far past dark and Basil is long asleep when I feel my strength start to give.

I have to go soon. I will come back, though. I always will.

I lean down to whisper into his hair. My voice is hoarse, but I don't mind the rough scrape of speaking.

_Goodnight, little puff. It's all alright._

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always welcome and appreciated.
> 
> Also, I made myself very sad writing this. 
> 
> (I don't know if I should add the MCD warning? Like technically they're already dead and everyone knows that, but no one dies in this specifically. What do you guys think?)


End file.
